


Say Your Piece and Begone

by LilyOrchard, MikailaT



Series: Anevay Darkflare - Horde Champion [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, F/F, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24184471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyOrchard/pseuds/LilyOrchard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikailaT/pseuds/MikailaT
Summary: A Blood Elven warrior arrives in the Undercity looking for someone she thought she lost years ago when Silvermoon fell.
Relationships: Dark Ranger Alina/Original Female Character
Series: Anevay Darkflare - Horde Champion [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939501
Comments: 20
Kudos: 76





	Say Your Piece and Begone

**Year 26 - Shortly After the Restoration of the Sunwell**

Anevay took a deep breath as she stood outside the elevator to the Undercity. This was it. Today was the day she was finally going to do it. For six long years she’d been mourning and trying to reconnect with anyone she could find and now she was going to make one last-ditch effort to reach out to the one person she was sure wouldn’t push her away. Six years of loneliness, of wondering if she’d ever see any of her friends or family again, and this was it. 

She hadn’t had any luck with her old friends or family. All of them wanted nothing to do with her. Called her a ‘loose end.’ But things had to be different. It was Alina. Alina loved her. She wouldn’t turn her away.

She couldn’t...

Anevay jumped as the elevator door opened and she stepped inside, preparing to look upon the Undercity with her own two eyes. A brief thought went through her mind as she realized that her old General was here too. Maybe she would have the chance to speak to her as well. This didn’t quell the anxiety as the door opened again and she stepped inside. If anything it only magnified it. Alina, her fiance, was one thing. Her general was another entirely.

Alina filled Anevay with warmth and light. Though she had a great deal of respect and admiration for her general, Sylvanas had always terrified her.

The Undercity was vast. Far more vast than the surface would have implied. It looked more like a necropolis than anything else. Anevay shuddered as she remembered Deatholme. Stepping between two large Abomination guards, she marveled at the architecture. This used to be a sewer? It looked like a fortress.

“What brings the living to this cursed place?” asked a Deathguard standing just behind her.

Anevay jumped in surprise and quickly caught her breath. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! ...I’m looking for… Alina Dawnblossom. I was told I could find her here?”

The undead man’s expression was imperceptible behind his helm, save for his two glowing eyes, which might have narrowed at Anevay. “...Sounds like one of the Dark Lady’s rangers,” he said, his voice gravelly and unkind. “They’re mostly stationed near the Throne Room. The rangers never stray far from the Dark Lady.” The Deathguard moved to return to his regular patrol before pausing to turn back at Anevay. “I would turn back. You’ll have a hard time convincing them to let you near the throne room.”

“I knew many of the Rangers years ago,” Anevay smiled. “I’m confident they’ll let me through.”

The guard only shrugged. “Apothecarium. Look for the Dark Rangers.”

“Thank you, sir,” Anevay bowed politely as she hefted her warblades more securely onto her back. She quickly followed the path to the Apothecarium and by extension the throne room, only to find the entrance blocked by two pale elves in black cloaks. The Dark Rangers she’d heard so much about.

Neither of them looked like Alina, in fact she recognized one of them. Lyana. As she tried to pass, they drew their bows and pointed them directly at her head.

“Not another step, blood elf,” Lyana hissed.

“Lyana, it’s me. Anevay!” Anevay said, taking a step back nervously. “I… I’m looking for Alina.”

“What business do you have with her?” Lyana demanded, not missing a beat and not lowering her weapon. 

“I… what kind of question is that?” Anevay raised an eyebrow. “It’s Alina. I want to see her. I haven’t seen her since the attack.”

“So that you can destroy her?” the other ranger demanded. “Put her down like a diseased dog? Correct the ‘mistake’ of her existence? We’ve heard this one before.” 

Anevay looked hurt at such an accusation, and she looked at the other ranger as if she had two heads. “No! I miss her! When I found out she was here I was so happy! Please Lyana, let me through...”

The Dark Ranger’s exchanged glances. Subtle shifts in their expressions suggested a silent exchange of messages. After a moment longer, they lowered their weapons. “Don’t dawdle,” Lyana said. “And don’t give us a reason to kill you.”

Anevay smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Ly.” She hurried past them and down the hallway to the throne room. Her heart started to race with excitement as she drew closer and closer. This was it. This was really happening!

When she got there, she nearly stopped dead in her tracks. The combination of old and new faces made her have to take a moment to get her bearings. Dark Rangers were pacing around the outer dias around the throne while a handful of undead and other Horde races were milling about. On the dias, on the throne, was Sylvanas Windrunner. She looked worse for wear, and seemed to have a permanent scowl on her face. She was flanked by Nathanos and a Dreadlord. How she got a Dreadlord under her control she would never know.

Before she could do anything, Sylvanas locked eyes with her and beckoned her forward. “Come forward, sin’dorei.”

Anevay made a squeak in nervousness but nodded and approached the throne. “My apologies, General. I’m looking for… old friends.”

“You best refer to Lady Sylvanas correctly, elf,” the Dreadlord sneered, his voice full of disdain and demonic power. “She is a queen. Not a general.”

Sylvanas silenced him with a simple raise of her hand, covered in clawed gauntlets. “You referred to me by an old title, and you seem quite familiar,” Sylvanas noted, her voice filling the room despite how quiet it truly was. “Did you serve under me in the last war?” 

Anevay nodded. “I was a Farstrider under your command for sixty years. The last time I saw you, you’d ordered me to guard civilians fleeing the Scourge attack. Anevay Darkflare.”

Sylvanas’ eyes widened half a fraction as clarity dawned on her face. “Ah yes. Darkflare. I remember your talent and ferocity quite well.” Her attention turned to a scroll that rested on one of the arms of her throne before she spoke again. “If you’ve come here to... catch up, I’m remiss to inform you that I am a busy woman.” 

“No, not quite,” Anevay shook her head. “I’m actually looking for my fiance. Alina Dawnblossom.”

Sylvanas looked up from the report in her grasp, arching a single brow at the Blood Elf. Nathanos and the Dreadlord exchanged silent looks, the latter appearing to be more in disgust while the former was simply confused. 

“...She will likely be found fletching in her quarters,” Sylvanas replied, gesturing to one side. “Corridor on the left.” 

“Thank you, Dark Lady,” Anevay smiled and bowed before she retreated down the hall Sylvanas had pointed her toward. Once she was out of sight of the throne room, she practically broke into a run. Excitement had grown into a kind of nervous glee as she neared the door. Skidding to a halt in front of it, she was practically overcome with anticipation and lifted her hand to knock on the door.

“I’m busy, Anya!” came an irritated, yet achingly familiar voice behind the door.

“It’s Anevay!” Anevay said through the door.

There was a painfully long drag of silence before the voice spoke again. “...Enter.” 

Anevay gripped the handle and pushed the door open. Once she was inside, she stopped.

Alina looked as immaculate as the last time she’d seen her alive. Her hair now a silvery white, it spilled over her shoulder the same way it always had. Aside from the change of color in her hair and skin, it was as if no time had passed. A far cry from Anevay herself, who bore more battle scars than she ever had before from fighting against the Alliance and fighting in Outland with (and then subsequently against) the Illidari.

“Alina… oh my god, I can’t believe it,” she smiled. Tears were starting to brim in her eyes.

“Come to mourn, have you?” Alina asked, her burning red eyes not looking directly at Anevay. “Come to lament the death of your beloved and loathe the empty husk of what remains? Well, fine. Say your piece and begone. I’m a busy woman.”

Anevay’s smile faltered, and she stepped closer and sat down on a stool beside her. “Say my piece? Alright. I mourned for years. I thought I’d lost you after Arthas destroyed everything. I lost everyone else too. I had no idea you were here. When I heard you were in service to Sylvanas… I was overjoyed. I didn’t come to lament. I came because I miss you.”

“Well here I am,” Alina said, gesturing to herself. “Happy now? Can I get back to my work?”

Anevay’s brow furrowed and she got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “A-Alina, did you hear what I said? I missed you so much. Didn’t… didn’t you miss me?”

“I have no use for such feelings,” Alina said dismissively, turning her attention to the arrow shafts she had yet to fletch. “I have no use for anything from that lifetime. My loyalty, my duty is to the Forsaken now. Whatever does not serve that purpose is an obstacle.”

Anevay’s heart sank. This couldn’t be happening again. Not again. Not Alina too. 

“Alina, please don’t do this. Don’t push me away. Not like everyone else. I love you.” Her voice was a small whimper as tears started to build in her eyes.

A bitter laugh came out of Alina’s throat, filling the room with the hollow echo of her voice. “You _love_ me?” she asked tauntingly before shaking her head. “No. The woman you love is dead. I am all that remains. You cling to a memory of Alina Dawnblossom. I am not that woman. I am a moment of despair and torment before death forever frozen in time. I am a monstrosity that you’ll grow to loathe the second I start humoring your little delusion. The living carry no love for us. Only self gratifying fantasies of who we once were, if that. I will not humor your delusions, Darkflare. Not now. Not ever.” 

Anevay felt her heart fracture, not only from Alina’s callous dismissal of her, but of the way she so brutally crushed every single hope she’d had as she rode to Lordaeron. She cautiously reached out and touched Alina’s hand, momentarily surprised by how cold it was. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t happening. This was all a horrible dream.

“Alina please…” she whimpered. “Please don’t shut me out. Don’t turn me away like everyone else has. Everyone’s dead, and those that are still walking around want nothing to do with me anymore. I thought… I thought you might be different. Please, I… I can’t lose you again.”

Alina was silent all throughout Anevay’s desperate plea. Her eyes were wide with shock and something… indiscernible before snapping back to her senses and wrenching her hand free. “Don’t touch me!” she hissed. “My existence has no place for you anymore! If you didn’t want to lose me, you shouldn't’ have let me die!” She paused for a beat, almost as if she were stunned by her own words. When she spoke again, it was much quieter, and much colder. “Leave. Weep over your losses. Your failure. I don’t care.” 

Tears had begun to slip down Anevay’s face as she looked down at the floor. “I… I didn’t want to. Sylvanas ordered me to escort civilians. I wanted to stay and fight with you…”

“I said leave.”

Anevay couldn’t bear it anymore, and stood up. Tears were flowing freely down her face as she reached into her satchel and pulled out a tiny object. She set it on Alina’s workbench and turned away for the door. Alina glanced down and noticed that it was a small brooch. A brooch that she had given to Anevay many years prior to keep her cloak fastened more tightly when it was constantly slipping off her neck. Her eyes turned to Anevay’s back as she opened the door.

The ranger-turned-warrior turned back momentarily, her eyes red and her face streaked with tears. She was making no effort to hide how utterly and completely heartbroken she was.

“I promise I won’t bother you again,” Anevay said, her voice cracking with sobs. “Goodbye, Dalah'surfal. I’m going to miss you so much.”

Alina said nothing. She looked down at her feet as Anevay left, closing the door behind her. She didn’t move from that spot until her ears couldn’t hear the sounds of her footsteps anymore. She didn’t move for a long while after that, even. She wasn’t truly sure how long she sat there in silence before she grabbed the brooch off the table and threw it at the door.

“FUCK!” she cursed, her other hand grabbing the edge of the table and throwing it against the other wall. “FUCK!!!”

She tore through everything she could get her hands on. Arrows, furniture, the cobblestone wall itself. She thrashed, punched and cursed at everything tangible until her fists were dripping with the ichor pulsing throughout her undead body. When she found nothing more to break, she sunk onto the floor, her small frame hugging itself tightly as tearless sobs wracked through her. 

A horrible thought tickled the back of her head more than she liked to admit. The idea of rushing back to Anevay, falling to her knees, begging for forgiveness and possibly getting her beloved Farstrider back… it was tempting. But… no, it was too late. Her words were too scathing. They cut too deep. Anevay would never forgive her. She would remember what they once were and move on. Perhaps find another woman to spend her days with.

Perhaps that was for the best. Alina did not deserve such happiness. Not now. 

Outside, in the central quarter of the city, Anevay was sobbing and staring at the canals of ooze running through the city. She looked down at her hand, which bore the ring she had refused to take off in years. She pulled it off her finger, and stared at it. Throwing it in the canal was tempting. And maybe she should have. It was clear she would never get Alina back now. Not after she had so thoroughly pushed her away.

But she couldn’t. She still loved the ranger dearly and couldn’t bear to part with her ring. But it still didn’t feel right to simply put it back on her finger. Instead, she fished into her satchel and pulled out a piece of coarse string. She tied the ring to it, and then put it around her neck. As she made sure it was tucked safely behind her chestplate, she wiped her eyes and tried to pull herself together. 

She’d have to return to Silvermoon alone.

“I love you, Alina.” She whispered as she slowly walked toward the elevator. “I just wish you still loved me…”


End file.
